


Can't Go Home Again

by acchikocchi



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, KAT-TUN (Band), NewS (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-21
Updated: 2008-03-21
Packaged: 2017-10-13 07:50:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/134893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acchikocchi/pseuds/acchikocchi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Remix of <a href="http://wrangler.livejournal.com">wrangler</a>'s <a href="http://burritos.livejournal.com/7671.html">Pinky and Perky</a> for <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/jentfic_remix">jentfic_remix</a>.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Can't Go Home Again

**Author's Note:**

> Remix of [wrangler](http://wrangler.livejournal.com)'s [Pinky and Perky](http://burritos.livejournal.com/7671.html) for [jentfic_remix](http://community.livejournal.com/jentfic_remix).

four.

 _The banter between the two had been a gimmick dreamed up by someone in management: build on inter-group tension, play the two "playboys" off against each other._

 _Halfway through a sentence, Jin looked at Matsumoto and came perilously close to stumbling over his words. Matsumoto was watching him with this - look, this grin like he loved watching Jin squirm and fumble and try to lash back and Jin realized that, set-up or no, Matsumoto was getting off on it._

 _Jin barely got through the rest of the prescribed exchange, much less the rest of the program. Matsumoto would like it rough, then, physically and verbally, would grip Jin's wrist and growl at him not to move - Jin bit the inside of his cheek, purposely, to keep from shivering._

 _He waited until everyone else had gone home, then went to Matsumoto's dressing room. The door was unlocked._

 _Matsumoto was bent over a table across the room. He either hadn't heard the door open or was deliberately ignoring it. Jin stood just inside the doorway and waited for Matsumoto to turn around as he rapidly tried to think of what exactly to say._

 _When Matsumoto did turn around, finally, Jin realized he didn't need to say anything at all._

 _They looked each other over in silence for a long moment. Then Jin crossed his arms over his chest and raised his eyebrows._

 _The corner of Matsumoto's mouth turned up slowly._

 _It was fortunate the door had a sturdy lock._

 _Thereafter it was simple and uncomplicated; they both wanted exactly the same thing. Matsumoto was no more a sadist than Jin was a masochist, but if he wanted to play S then Jin was more than ready to play M. It was satisfying in a way Jin's other encounters were not: not only the sex itself, but the separation from obligation, from expectation, from being the person he usually was._

 _They didn't meet more than once every few weeks, though. It was, in the end, another role._

  


three.

 _Jin didn't meet Yasuda Shota - really meet him, instead of quick introductions backstage at Shounen Club - until Dream Boys._

 _At first, he was dumbfounded. Surely Yasuda couldn't be for real. The more Jin saw of him, the more confused he became, until he was completely at a loss as to whether the flamboyant clothing and the extravagant gestures were an act or a complete absence of self-consciousness or a loud fuck-you to the rest of the world. He found himself watching Yasuda closely all afternoon, and the next day, as if he might catch a secret signal that would tell him whether or not Yasuda was That Way._

 _About a week into rehearsals, Yasuda – Yasu, as his friends told everyone to call him - neatly corralled him as they were packing up. Jin, looking up to find the subject of his weeklong scrutiny smiling cheefully at him, temporarily forgot to say anything._

 _"Let's go eat together," Yasu suggested. Jin, trying not to stare at Yasu's rainbow bracelet (or the leanly muscled arm wearing it), couldn't really do anything but agree._

 _The restaurant was a tiny hole in the wall whose specialty, Yasu said, was kitsune udon. It was stiflingly warm and Jin felt tongue-tied, fixing his gaze on a point on the wall just past Yasu's head._

 _Yasu said something about the weather. Jin agreed without really knowing what he was agreeing with. It was as if every other thought had been wiped from Jin's brain, leaving only ten-foot neon letters scrolling through his mind: is he or isn't he?_

 _He did, however, pay attention when Yasu said, "You can just ask, you know."_

 _Jin choked on his mouthful of noodles. Yasu leaned over, the picture of concern, and thumped him on the back until he could breathe again._

 _"I – what?" he said faintly._

 _Yasu smiled. Jin was beginning to wonder about that smile. "You can just ask. I don't mind."_

 _"Oh," Jin said stupidly._

 _There was a short silence. Jin coughed. Yasu was grinning._

 _"So, uh, are you, uh..." He trailed away, at a loss, and Yasu burst into laughter._

 _A sheepish grin crept across Jin's face. "Want to go somewhere else?" he offered._

 _Yasu, still laughing, nodded with enthusiasm._

 _Being with Yasu was just – nice. Yasu was friendly, sweet, adventurous; he looked good and felt good and made it very clear that he thought the same about Jin. There were many things to try over the course of a month, and when Dream Boys was over Jin was a little sorry to see Yasu leave Tokyo._

 _They kept in touch afterwards. Yasu's group was in Tokyo often, and occasionally KAT-TUN went down to Osaka for a concert or a TV special. They almost always managed to make time to meet. It was easy and fun and affectionate, but Jin had no illusions about what it really was, or how long it could last: Yasu was looking for something that wasn't Jin, and if he found it the jimusho would be the very last thing to stand in his way._

 

two.

 _Takki had called him out of the blue. It had been months since they'd last spoken. From the sound of it he was far from sober already, as he urged Jin to meet him in Shibuya. It was an order, he said, from Jin's senpai._

 _Jin went._

 _Takki was in perilously high spirits, laughing hysterically at the drop of a hat. Jin felt embarrassed for him, and then ashamed of being embarrassed. Everyone knew about the low ticket sales, and no one talked about it. (It couldn't lead down any other road: stage shows instead of dramas, endless Junior projects, and how many singles, how many albums in the last four years?)_

 _Takki finally called it a night long after Jin felt his eyelids drooping. They had no sooner flagged a taxi then it caught up with Takki all at once and he slumped against the door with a loud snore. In the end, Jin got out with Takki and helped him up to his apartment, struggling with the keys with Takki's full weight hanging off his shoulder, and finally stumbled inside to deposit Takki on his bed._

 _Winded, he took a minute to catch his breath._

 _Asleep, the lines around Takki's eyes disappeared and his mouth relaxed. Jin couldn't help admiring the contrast of full lips against square jaw and he allowed himself a moment of purely aesthetic appreciation. It was easy to see why Takki had become a favorite._

 _Takki's eyes opened._

 _Jin automatically glanced away, realizing too late that that in itself was equally tell tale. Bracing himself, he met Takki's eyes._

 _Takki was watching him with an entirely different expression._

 _"You, too," he said._

 _Jin nodded._

 _Takki sighed, a sound of relief, and without further ado pulled Jin down._

 _Afterwards, Takki said, "That makes three."_

 _Jin looked over. "Three?"_

 _"You, me, and Jun." Takki rolled over on his side and traced Jin's bicep with the tip of one finger. "Matsumoto Jun. Did you know about him? No – " he laughed a little, "You guys don't get along very well, do you? You should talk to him sometime." Takki smiled. "You don't know anyone else, right?"_

 _Yasuda's name was on the tip of Jin's tongue. At the last minute he said instead, "No."_

 _"You can never be too careful in this business," Takki said, suddenly melancholy. "One word to the wrong person and your whole career is ruined, bam!" He smacked his hands together, making Jin start, and looked up at Jin. "This is the, the price for all the rest of it, you know?"_

 _Jin nodded. He felt sick. "Sorry," he said, "I have to go home, I have early recording tomorrow – "_

 _Takki nodded easily. "Go home, go to sleep." His smile turned lazy and satisfied. "Sorry, I wasn't appreciative enough, huh? You're really good, Jin."_

 _"Thanks," Jin said automatically and rolled out of bed._

 _He dressed quickly. Just as he was at the door, Takki said, "Jin."_

 _Jin turned. Takki gave him a smile._

 _"You can call me any time," Takki said. "I know how it is."_

 _Jin swallowed. "Thanks," he said again._

 _The next day, he told the jimusho that he was going to Los Angeles._

 

one.

 _He wondered, at first, if maybe he shouldn't have, but Tegoshi was a smart kid, smart enough to recognize things for what they were and smart enough to make decisions for himself. Jin wasn't going to tell him what to do about the others in the jimusho, whether to seek them out or avoid them; that was up to Tegoshi. As far as Jin's part went, Tegoshi had been funny and smart-mouthed and desirable and Jin had no regrets. That was as far as it went, for now. Maybe it would happen again, maybe it wouldn't. Jin thought he wouldn't mind if it did._

 _It wasn't perfect. But he had known, when he'd decided to come back to the jimusho, exactly what was at stake._

 _He wasn't happy, but he wasn't unhappy. This was what he had chosen, after all._

 

zero.

It had been way Tegoshi looked at him. Not guiltily, not secretively, but constantly: Yamapi would look up and find Tegoshi's eyes resting on him, and Tegoshi would smile a little, almost like an apology, and look away.

The morning had been promotional TV appearance back to back, and Yamapi didn't have a chance to ask Tegoshi if there was something he wanted to talk about before they were back in the dressing room after the fourth and final taping, getting ready to go.

Koyama got there first. "Tegoshi," he said, pouncing, "I tried to call you all yesterday afternoon, like you said, and you didn't answer!" He mussed Tegoshi's hair. "Think about the people clearing their schedules for you!"

Tegoshi laughed and ducked away. "Sorry, Kei-chan, sorry! I ran into someone and got distracted." Something in his tone made Yamapi look up, just in time to catch the end of Tegoshi's glance before it flicked away.

Koyama tried to huff, which was hard since he was laughing at the same time – at least partly, Yamapi suspected, at Tegoshi's nerve. "It'd better have been a really cute girl or something, to make you forget."

Tegoshi laughed again. "I'm not that lucky, Kei-chan," he said with a bright smile. "Actually, it was Akanishi-kun."

Yamapi went ice-cold all over.

He didn't hear Koyama's response - something about how Akanishi-kun was so much cooler, no wonder his phone calls got ignored. Someone laughed. The room buzzed around him. He sat motionless, watching Tegoshi pouting at Koyama, and wondering what Tegoshi had said to Jin, what Jin had said to Tegoshi. How he hadn't noticed.

He was grateful for the extra space the others always unconsciously gave him; no one commented on the fact that he was suddenly silent as they trailed out of the studio one by one with a wave or a casual goodbye for the rest. Ryo was the last to leave; he gave Yamapi a long look, but appeared satisfied as Yamapi returned it evenly and tossed a wave over his shoulder as he went.

Then, ignoring the slow burn in his stomach, the desire to go straight to Jin's and demand an answer, Yamapi went home.

Time slid by in minutes, quarter-hours, half-hours like interlocking blocks, stacking higher and higher as Yamapi sat completely still in the center of his apartment and ran over the same thoughts again and again until they formed a well-worn rut in his mind.

Finally, when it was nearly midnight, he came to a decision. Without calling ahead, he got his car and went to Jin's.

Jin answered the door within seconds. If he was surprised, it didn't show in his face. Instead he greeted Yamapi with a "Yo" that turned into a yawn and waved him inside.

The apartment was dark and silent. Yamapi could just make out the gleam of white leather in the direction of the living room, where a stray moonbeam sliced through the shuttered blinds, and the faint outline of a guitar leaning against the couch.

Yamapi instinctively went to the couch. He noted dimly, as he sat, that his heart was pounding.

Jin leaned against the door jamb, his face open and wide and curious. Yamapi imagined that face tense with pleasure, eyes closed, mouth open and murmuring silly endearments to an endless array of partners and his stomach twisted. Before he was aware his mouth was opening, he said, "Tegoshi. I saw Tegoshi today."

Jin started, just a little. His face was, as always, an open book. At the sound of his voice trying for neutrality, a simple "Yeah?", Yamapi felt a wave of irrational anger swell within him.

"Yeah," he said. "I can't believe you, Jin, he's _underage_ – "

"He's twenty," Jin said sharply, "which you should remember since he's in your group. And don't act so self-righteous, it's not like you waited nearly that long."

"That's not the point," Yamapi said tightly.

It could have gone unspoken, but Jin said it anyway. "Then what is?"

Yamapi stood up with a jerk and strode restlessly from the couch to the window and back. "Are you going to do it again?"

Jin looked at him unwaveringly. "Maybe. I don't know."

"Would you if he wasn't in the jimusho?"

Jin's mouth compressed. After a moment he said, "He's nice. I liked him."

"That's not an answer," Yamapi said.

"It doesn't matter," Jin said. "He is, and I am, and if we're fine with it then why does it matter?"

Yamapi exploded. "Maybe you're fine with it but you're not _happy_. When was the last time you weren't with someone because they were safe? When are you going to pick someone who actually cares about _you?_ "

Jin just looked at him, with eyes both tired and sad, and Yamapi's anger drained away in a heartbeat, leaving only a tight, painful feeling in his chest. He sank down on the couch.

"I just want you to be happy," he said.

"It's not that easy," Jin said softly. "What do you think the odds are? How likely do you think it is I'll find someone I actually want to stay with who's into guys, who I can trust, who gets," – he made a helpless gesture – "all of this?" He looked up at Yamapi with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Yamapi stood up.

He walked over to Jin, until he was standing directly in front of him. His throat was dry as sandpaper. He placed a hand on either side of Jin's face, firmly, and looked straight into Jin's wide brown eyes, so there could be no doubt what he was about to do. He would give anything, do anything, for Jin to be happy.

He closed his eyes and leaned forward.

At first Jin was hesitant, then responsive, warm. He cradled the nape of Yamapi's neck with one hand, rested the other on his hip; his lips were dry and soft. It was Jin, Yamapi thought to himself. It was Jin, and he was _good_ , he was smooth and open and sure. Yamapi tentatively brushed the tip of his tongue against Jin's lips and Jin opened his mouth and drew Yamapi in.

At last, Jin drew away.

"There," Yamapi said unsteadily. "How about me."

Jin looked at him.

Something was burning in his eyes and lungs and throat, the icy burn of deep frost. Yamapi wanted to cover Jin's mouth with both hands; he wanted something to tear the words from Jin's throat and carry them away; he wanted anything but for Jin to open his mouth, to speak.

"Pi," Jin said. His voice was gentle and sad. Yamapi closed his eyes. "It doesn't work like that."

Yamapi didn't trust himself to speak. He clenched his jaw, and took a deep, shaky breath. No matter how matter how he tried, he couldn't close his eyes tightly enough to take the sting away.

There was a hand on his cheek, a roughened thumb brushing under his eye. Against his will, Yamapi opened his eyes to see Jin standing before him.

Yamapi said, "I love you."

Jin's mouth trembled, as if he were trying to smile, or trying not to cry. In the dim light, his eyes shone wetly.

"I know you do," he said.

Yamapi took another deep breath, steadier this time. There was a bitter taste in his mouth, where his cheek had bled. He stepped back, and Jin's hand fell away.

"I better go," he said. "I said – I have to – " His voice caught.

Jin nodded silently and followed Yamapi to the door.

"I'll call you later," Yamapi said, with an attempt at a normal voice. "Okay?"

"Okay," Jin said.

"Night," Yamapi said, and closed the door without looking back.

He drove in the opposite direction of his apartment until he reached a glassy apartment complex outside Roppongi. He took the elevator to the ninth floor and let himself in with the spare key he'd been given a few months ago.

Yuu's eyes fluttered open as Yamapi leaned over her. "Go back to sleep," he whispered, and she murmured something and closed her eyes again. He stripped off his shirt and jeans and crawled in next to her.

It was a long time before he could sleep.


End file.
